


All My Days

by Rosage



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Birthday Presents, M/M, Stealth Matchmaker Kagero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 09:16:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8280655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosage/pseuds/Rosage
Summary: Ninja birthdays are a secret to all but immediate family, sometimes close companions included--or, apparently, lieges.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm late to the ninja twin birthday party, but that was a busy week for me. It's still close enough for me to post schmoop.
> 
> Thanks to Phrenotobe for the rice paper idea and encouragement.

Saizo slicked back his bangs with a blistered hand, keeping sweat from dripping into his one good eye. He’d worked himself dry, but there was something unsatisfying in knowing none of his blood had been spilled. Exercises couldn’t prepare one for battle the way sparring did.  _ If Brother hadn’t skipped out… _

Granted, they hadn’t agreed to spar, but the twins always did on this day. They never mentioned the reason, though the winner provided the loser with healing herbs for once. This year Kaze was at Corrin’s side, and he’d made no show of wanting to be roughed up. Saizo shouldn’t have expected that even this tradition would remain the same once Kaze found a master. He’d trained vigorously by himself to forget that it bothered him.

It wasn’t as if he cared to acknowledge his birthday. Ninja birthdays were a secret to all but immediate family, sometimes close companions included. Kagero was the only one who ever gave him a gift, as they’d whispered their birth dates to each other at the beginning of their romance. She’d tried to paint him something that awkward year, but he’d been ungracious, so she’d switched to giving him a balm for burns or the like.

When he sensed her approach, he calmed. Not that it mattered, but—well, at least she knew how not to make a fuss about these things. However, despite her smooth face, her manner suggested something was wrong. His tension renewed. Instead of pressing some bottle into his palm, she inclined her head and said, “Lord Ryoma is summoning you.”

All thoughts of himself fled. For his lord to send Kagero… “Is he…? Never mind. I’ll go to him at once.”

“He’s fine,” she assured his retreating form, though it didn’t slow his pace.

He settled slightly only when Ryoma was within sight, indeed in one non-bleeding piece. He was kneeling within his chambers, eyes closed, and Saizo waited so as not to disturb him. Despite Kagero’s best attempts, Saizo had never taken to meditation; it always seemed to agitate him more. Watching Ryoma do it was one of the only things that could calm him, besides Kagero herself, when they weren’t arguing. It didn’t quite empty his mind, but it came closest. There was room for little else when studying his lord’s smooth face, or the way his hair spiked out over the curve of his back.

Today his attention was also taken by the package in Ryoma’s lap. It was roll-shaped, wrapped in what must have been dozens of sheets of rice paper, and Saizo’s heart rate spiked when he guessed what it was.

Ryoma’s eyes opened before Saizo could covertly get a closer look. They lacked his usual post-meditation serenity. “Saizo?”

“Here, my lord.” He emerged from his spot beside a dresser and took a knee by Ryoma’s side.

“At ease. I only ask for a moment of your time.” At Ryoma’s gesturing, Saizo reluctantly lowered his other knee to the mat. He hadn’t washed after his training, and his clothes stunk of sweat and grime. Ryoma held out the parcel, which practically tottered in his large palms—he carried a sword more often than delicate paper. “I realize this isn’t something I normally do, but I’d like you to have this.”

Saizo didn’t have to ask what it was for, but the question  _ why?  _ repeated like a mantra nonetheless. “How did you…?”

“I have my connections. I know it’s not standard for a ninja to celebrate, but I felt I was overdue in recognizing it.”

“I couldn’t… I’ve done nothing to deserve this.”

Ryoma’s eyes softened, and Saizo had to lower his gaze. “On this day, all that’s required is being born, right?” Ryoma asked.

“That’s not the sort of thing I expect credit for.”

“Then consider it a token of my appreciation for your service.”

Saizo wanted to protest that they’d discussed this, but it wasn’t his place to argue with his lord—and truthfully, it was hard not to be pleased that Ryoma considered him worthy of favor. Trying not to betray his eagerness, he held out his palms, all curiosity replaced with horror when he realized nothing covered them. He usually hoarded his collection of burns and scars away from his lord’s sight. On top of which, a blister had burst, and such a thick covering of rice paper was expensive in itself.

“I beg your pardon, my lord. I’ll go cleanse myself.”

“There’s no need.” The pair of gloves Ryoma produced smacked of Kagero’s involvement.  _ Kagero… How could you have let him go through with this? _

With a murmur of thanks Saizo slipped on the gloves, unsettled by their soft, thin fabric, which barely came between his fingers and Ryoma’s. He unwrapped the parcel slowly, awkward without his bulky padding. From the shape of it he thought he knew what to expect, and his eagerness renewed—until enough of the paper was gone to make the details clear.

Even looking at the hilt and sheath, Saizo could tell that the weapon within was not meant to see blood. He confirmed this when, on Ryoma’s urging, he drew the dagger. An etching of a dragon decorated the blade, which was expertly crafted, the sort of weapon only a noble could commission—for a mantelpiece, or an heir. Not a retainer. Not a ninja fighting in the shadows.

Though speechless, Saizo couldn’t take his eyes off of it. The anxiety was clear in Ryoma’s voice. “Is it suitable?”

If it had been a meal of grilled fish, Saizo could have accepted after an appropriate amount of self-denigration. But this… “Forgive me, my lord, I can’t… This craftsmanship is top notch. You must have paid a fortune.”

“Think of it as cumulative, then. This is the first year I was able to show my appreciation like this. I didn’t know when your birthday was until Corrin mentioned that Kaze’s was coming up.” Ryoma’s voice tightened at the same time that Saizo clenched his jaw.

“Kaze keeps a loose tongue these days.” He knew they were both thinking that this time last year, their siblings were strangers. Saizo may have put little stock in anniversaries, but he knew how many days had passed since he swore his oath to Ryoma. Many birthdays had come and gone.

He wondered if it was a matter of Ryoma’s pride to not be shown up by his little sibling in this way. If that was the case, he could accept it, though he’d thought Kagero put an end to Ryoma’s days as a reckless showoff. Had she seriously conspired with him in this?

His horror deepened when he realized rubies were inlaid in the hilt—all the more expensive, as they needed to be imported from Nohr. Such noble posturing was beneath Ryoma. If he had given Saizo a plain shuriken and told him to wield it in his name, Saizo would have done it with pride. As warriors, Saizo and his lord usually understood each other, but sibling competition must have ruled the day.

“I know such flashiness isn’t like me,” Ryoma said. Saizo was relieved to hear his embarrassment. “But I wanted to give you something you would preserve, not use and wear out. I can’t always…” His hand’s movements were firm, like he was giving a talking point in a speech, but it was clear from his face that he was lost. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I don’t want you to forget that I care for you.”

This time, Saizo couldn’t look away from his lord’s earnest eyes. As much as the words, they laid the heart of his reservation bare: this was not an ordinary display of favor from a lord.

“Of course,” Ryoma continued quickly, “if I’ve made you uncomfortable, you’re under no obligation to accept…”

“No,” Saizo burst. “I could never reject your favor, Lord Ryoma.” Despite his moment of recognition, he couldn’t bring himself to word it otherwise. Instead he smiled behind his mask, sure Ryoma could recognize it in his eye. Though he was still unsettled, it was worth it for Ryoma’s relief. “I... Thank you. But you know I don’t need such rewards. Did you not believe me before?”

“No, I trust you completely. It’s just that  _ I  _ might have needed to spoil you for once. Will you forgive my selfishness on a day meant for you?”

“All my days are meant for you, Lord Ryoma. Don’t spare it another thought.”

Chuckling, Ryoma rubbed his neck. “When you say such things, can I be blamed for trying? But if you’ll keep this one gift, I promise not to bring it up again.”

“Of course. I’ll treasure it.” And he would, even if he didn’t deserve such extravagance—even if it was, perhaps, as much a display of shameless bravado as it was generosity. He’d keep it safe, and he’d polish it, and he’d boast that he among all others held his liege’s favor.

But Ryoma’s caring… That, he’d never speak of, though he’d keep it close at heart.


End file.
